Spoiler alert: I have never read a book more detailed about women’s experiences in its rawest form.
When I got my copy of Chimamanda Adicihe’s “Dream Count,” I planned to read the 377-page book in three days — routine for an avid reader. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I spent one week and two days reading “Dream Count”, not because it was tedious, but because it called for a reader’s undivided attention. It tugged at my heart in ways no book ever has. And I had to pause many times to sit in the emotions wrought by the experiences of these characters.
Before I read “Dream Count”, I came across Adichie’s interview with BBC Africa where she expounded on a staggering reality— “there is very little literature about women’s bodies,” she pointed out. Inspired by this, she set out to do the unexpected and wrote about women’s experiences in their rawest form through the lens of Chiamaka (Chia), Zikora, Omelogor and Kadiatou. I knew “Dream Count” would be different before I read it, but the extent was what I couldn’t have predicted.
Love changes, and with it, women
In “Dream Count”, Adichie masterfully explores the intricate dynamics of romantic love and its profound impact on women. Through Chiamaka’s journey, she poignantly illustrates how women’s self-worth is often tied to their relationships. The contrast between Darnell’s dismissive “Shit shit shit” during intimacy and Chuka’s tender “You’re so sweet, you’re so sweet” is a simple but powerful commentary on how women deserve to be loved and appreciated for who they are, without compromise.
As each character navigates love’s complexities, Adichie offers a searing indictment of the patriarchal norms that have long diminished women’s value. With unflinching clarity, she declares: “No more.” No more erasure, no more self-doubt, and no more begging for validation. “Dream Count” is a triumphant rejection of the status quo, a testament to the transformative power of self-love, and a celebration of women’s resilience.
“I did not usually touch him unless he touched me first, because my weakness for touch might be yet another flaw.”— Chia, “Dream Count”
Dreams don’t count without marriage and children
I’m deeply grateful for Adichie’s unfiltered portrayal of Omelogor, a 46-year-old banker turned post-graduate student, whose struggles as a single, child-free woman are laid bare in all their complexity. Despite her contentment and happiness, Omelogor faces relentless pressure from relatives to conform to societal norms. “Dream Count” masterfully exposes the subtle ways in which these expectations seep into her mind, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty.
As I read Chia’s story, I felt a pang of recognition. The words of Chia’s aunt, urging her to settle down and start a family, echoed my own fears: “Stop travelling and find a man to do IVF with… Your life will just feel empty and meaningless.” These words struck a chord, reminding me that I, too, may soon face similar pressures to abandon my dreams of exploring the world.
Seeing the “Dream Count” unfold, I feel a throbbing desire to yell that I will never bow to society’s expectations, but like Chia, I fear that the desire to please my loved ones may trump my desire to stay true to myself.
“To be alone is not always to be lonely” — Omelogor, “Dream Count”
The unfiltered reality of women’s experiences
For too long, women’s experiences have been shrouded in mystery, hidden behind a veil of shame, stigma, and societal expectations. Only now, are we beginning to slowly break free from this suffocating silence and Adichie’s “Dream Count” does her part to contribute to the unbridled truth of our bodies, our desires, our struggles, and our triumphs.
“Dream Count” tackles aspects of the female experience far more explicitly than Adichie’s previous work or any work if I do say so. As intended, Adichie discusses physical issues related to women’s bodies —pains of fibroids, PMS, female genital mutilation, rape, struggle with body insecurity, pap smears, colourism & bleaching, and spousal rape. And she does so with utmost openness.
In these unfiltered discussions, I found solace in shared understanding, and strength in collective resilience. “Dream Count” teaches us to speak with brave openness and embrace the realities of our journeys, while shattering the illusions of perfection, of conformity and of silence.
“Somewhere in her consciousness, a mild triumph hovered, because it was over…she had pushed out the baby. So animalistic and violent – the push and pressure, the blood, the cranking and stretching of flesh and organ and bone.” — “Dream Count”
Mothers are human too
With Zikora and Chia’s relationships with their mothers, “Dream Count” explores the complexities of mother-daughter relationships. The mother-daughter bond is a complex relationship, fraught with tensions and contradictions. The weight of inherited expectations, unresolved conflicts, and unspoken resentments, created a chasm between both parties.
“Dream Count” humanises mothers. It shatters the myth of the ideal mother, stripping away the unrealistic standards that are never applied to fathers. It portrays mothers as relatable human beings, dismantling the notion that they must be perfect, selfless and superhuman. I saw Zikora’s strained relationship with her mother morph into the most profound and enduring connection, a source of strength, inspiration, and transformation.
“Zikora looked now at her mother…How had she never really seen her? It was her father who destroyed, and it was her mother she blamed for the ruins left behind… Her mother was becoming a person before her eyes.” —“Dream Count”
“Dream Count” sees women
As I read the last paragraph of “Dream Count”, I concluded, “This is Adichie’s love letter to women.” With unflinching honesty, Adichie crafted a masterpiece that sheds light on the complexities of women’s experiences. It also offers a powerful antidote to the shame, stigma, and silence that have haunted women.
This is evident in Omelogor’s contentment in her decision to remain single and child-free. Chia and Zikora’s relentless pursuit for fulfilment in diverse paths and Kadiatou’s untainted resilience despite going through traumatic experiences.
The women of “Dream Count” mirrored the diverse lives of women in its totality. Through their lives, we see both the fragility and beauty of women and the importance of being the centre of our own lives. With “Dream Count,” Adichie says “I see women” and it was definitely worth the decade-long wait.
